Tuesday, December 13, 2016


The Affair, An Erotic Short Romance

by J.C. Valentine Publication Date: December 13, 2016 Genres: Adult, Novella, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance

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Synopsis: While the husband is away, the wife will play…Bradley is a good man. He’s loyal and loving and a great husband and father. But the spice is gone from our marriage. It’s time to liven things up a bit. I’m done being good. Done following the rules. I’ve spent half my life playing wife, mother, chauffeur, and maid. Now, it’s time to play the vixen. It’s time to reclaim the woman I used to be—the woman I was always meant to be. It’s time to shake things up. Warning: This book is short and filled with dirty, steamy sex. It’s going to speak to your adventurous side, the side of you that craves a fantasy. So, if you’ve ever wondered what if, then this is the book for you. It requires an open mind, so read it till the end. You won’t be sorry. goodreads-badge-add-38px

EXCERPT

I’ve never done anything like this before. Me, a married woman with kids, sitting alone in a hotel bar drinking cheap, bubbly champagne from a fluted glass. The last time I had champagne was at my wedding twelve years ago. I was younger then, able to stay up past midnight without looking like something death ran over. I had a better body then, too. No stretch marks. Tight stomach. Twenty pounds lighter. My boobs were fantastic, too, defying the laws of gravity. Certainly no need for the uncomfortable underwire pushup from Victoria’s Secret to make them look good. But I digress. I’ve never deliberately sat in a bar waiting for someone to notice me. A nice someone. Someone with dark, kind eyes that hold an edge of danger. Someone that lights that fire in my belly from just a look, the barest touch. After popping out two kids and spending the last seven and a half years running endless errands and performing maid duties in exchange for a weekly romance novel stipend and the occasional functional haircut when time allows, I’ve missed that feeling. You know the one—excitement, flare, burning desire. I’m at the point in my life where I need to reclaim a part of myself. That part that needs to be reminded she’s still a woman. A woman with needs. With desires. With dreams and passions and a zest for life. That’s why I’m here tonight. While my children play gin rummy and eat far too many sweets with my in-laws, I’m on a mission to rediscover the vibrant, sexy, confident woman I used to be.

ABOUT J.C. VALENTINE

J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Series. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry. J.C. earned her own happily ever after when she married her high school sweetheart. Living in the Northwest, they have three amazing children and far too many pets and spend much of their free time together enjoying movies or the outdoors. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors. Sign up for J.C.’s newsletter and never miss a thing! http://bit.ly/1KxXWWB

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Tequila Healing

by D.L. Gallie The Liquor Cabinet Series Publication Date: February 7, 2017 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
  Mike Mustange was always the happy go lucky, life of the party. That was until the unthinkable happened. He swore off relationships; until he meets Savannah Blac. She worms her way into his broken heart; he can’t get her off his mind. Alone, after suffering a crushing loss, Savannah “Sav” Blac runs to protect herself and her family legacy. She takes a job, hiding in plain sight, hoping to keep everyone out. She doesn’t count on meeting Mike Mustange. He worms his way into her guarded heart; she can’t get him off her mind. Can Sav get Mike to open up his heart? Can Mike protect Sav while she keeps what’s rightfully hers?

 

About DL Gallie

I’m from Queensland in Australia but I have lived all around the world. I’m currently living in Gladstone with my husband and two kids. I’ve been with my husband since I was 16, and even though we drive each other nuts at times, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I got back into reading just after I had my son and with some encouragement from my husband I started to write, and now the voices won’t stop. I enjoy listening to music, drinking white wine in Summer, Red wine in Winter, beer all year round, I won’t say no to a cocktail either (specifically a margarita), reading and now writing.
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Nico, the first book in the Ruin & Revenge series by New York Times bestselling author Sarah Castille


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Blurb
Las Vegas Mafia boss Nico Toscani is used to getting what he wants, whether it is having the City of Sin under his rule or a beautiful woman in his bed. But when he meets his match in the gorgeous, headstrong Mia Cordano, the daughter of a rival crime lord, all bets are off . . . Sexy computer hacker Mia struggles to break free of her ruthless father's Mafia ties . . . but she can't resist the powerful and seductive Nico, who will stop at nothing to possess her. With their families locked in a brutal war for control of the city, Mia and Nico enter into a forbidden game. Will they surrender to the passion that burns between them and risk tearing apart their families? Or will Nico be forced to betray the only woman who sets his blood on fire?




Excerpt
“Welcome back, my friend.”
Wham. Nico had King by the throat and halfway over the bar before Mia had a chance to introduce him.
“Let him go.” Mia tugged on Nico’s wrist, dislodging his hand from the bartender’s throat.
“Sorry.” She reached across the bar to straighten King’s collar. “He doesn’t get out much.”
“Hey, no problem.” King held up his hands, palms forward in the universal sign of surrender. “Just being friendly, man. We got a hands off policy until five a.m. That’s when the clubs shut down and the strippers come in looking for some fun.”
“You.” Mia turned and poked Nico in the chest. “Take it down about one thousand notches. I know these people, and they know me. Nothing’s going to happen to me here.”
Nico grunted but didn’t look convinced. Mia ordered a couple of two-dollar drinks and found a small table near the back that wasn’t covered in empties.
“Don’t use the washroom unless you’re desperate,” Mia said, amused by how uptight her Mafia boss was in the pit of sin. Or maybe it was because he had left his bodyguards outside and he was alone for the first time in forever.
“I’ve got my piece.” He patted his jacket, and Mia laughed.
“Oh. It’s a gun. I wondered what that was when you were pressed up against me at the bar. I thought you wanted me.”
His eyes darkened and he reached over, dragged her chair toward him. “I wanted you back at the hotel. Now it’s a fucking need.”
Mia leaned over, kissed his neck. “Do you know what I need?”
He threaded his hand through her hair, pulled her closer. “What do you need, bella?”
“I need to dance.” She pushed away and wound her way through the tables to the tiny dance floor in front of the stage. How the hell could she make this work if she wanted to jump him every time they were together? She didn’t want to get emotionally involved in a fake marriage that tied her to the mob, especially when it was never meant to last. And yet, she was already emotionally involved. She could never have said ‘I do’ to a man she didn’t trust, a man she liked and cared deeply about. There was so much more to Nico than the cold, ruthless mob boss he let the world see. He was passionate, protective, deeply committed to his family, and so damn sexy she couldn’t keep her hands away.
Someone put the Clash on the jukebox and she danced with two biker chicks as punk rock videos played on the projection screen behind the stage. She glanced over at the table, but Nico was already behind her.
“You trying to fucking kill me?” He wrapped one arm around her waist, and pulled her against him, as if they were alone and not in the middle of a dance floor in a grungy dive bar.
“I was trying to dance.” Her nipples tightened as he ground his hips into her ass. “I see you want the X-rated version.”
He kissed his way down her neck, and nipped the sensitive skin on her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. “I could fuck you right here and no one would bat an eye.”
Mia turned to face him, wound her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I like watching you.” He pulled her close and danced like his hips were unhinged, grinding against her until her clit throbbed and she was so wet for him, the thought of fucking him in the filthy bathroom held considerable appeal.
“Nico.” She moaned softly, and he thrust his thick thigh between her legs, rocking her against the rough fabric of his jeans.
“Can you come like this?” His voice was a low, sensual rasp in her ear, his hands firm on her hips, his body hot and hard in her arms.
“I don’t know, but I want to.”
He twisted her hair in his hand, yanked her head back, and kissed her fiercely. “How bad is the restroom?”
“Bad.”
She slid her hand down, smoothed it over his T-shirt, tracing over his rock hard pecs, the ripples of his abs. Nico’s grip tightened and his voice dropped to a husky growl. “How much do you want me?”
“Worse.” She rubbed the palm of her hand along his rock hard erection. People danced around them, laughed, and joked. Their R-rated behavior was nothing in a bar where she’d witnessed X-rated shenanigans.
“Come.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her across the dance floor and through the maze of tables to the tiny, dark hall leading to the restrooms.
“Where are we going?”
His lips curved in a sensual smile. “To give you what you want.”



About the Author:


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Sarah Castille worked and travelled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. She writes contemporary erotic romance and romantic suspense featuring blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them. Her books include the bestselling “Redemption” fighter romance series, and the dark, gritty Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club romance series.


Stalk Sarah Here: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads |




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Dark Surrender is LIVE and only $1.99! So snag this complete paranormal stand alone and read all about why having a male siren try to seduce you isn't all it's cracked up to be!





Blurb
Never met a male siren before?
You're about to....

I grew up as a prince...
And lead the life of a King.
There isn't anyone or anything that doesn't want me, that isn't attracted to me. They can't help it. And I sure as hell don't want them to. I live for their lust, I crave touch like an addiction, I make them beg on their knees for one, simple, caress.
As a male siren it's my job to feed off emotion.
And I was happy to do it.
I am happy to do it.
What I'm not happy about? Being told I have to mate with some withering human and stay loyal to that one person for the next few centuries. There's a war coming and being the idiot I am--I offered to take one for the team in order to help a friend.
Now my sexual appetite is taking a freaking kick in the nuts.
And I'm left wondering if it's worth it.
If she's worth it, with messy hair and dirty human hands.
But I have a world to save.
A job to do.
Now, if only, she would just let me do it rather than fighting me at every turn. I've lived lifetimes as the most irresistible being on the planet.
Only to meet my match.
With one.
Measly.
Human.
They say hells hot. They're wrong.
Because Hope, my little human, is way hotter.
And before this is over--she may just singe me alive.




Excerpt

To say I was pissed.
To say I was angry
To say I was intrigued.
I couldn’t decide which emotion was going to win out, which made her all the more exciting. Sirens, for the most part, kept their physical appearance at a five. On a scale of one to ten, a five meant that you were clearly above average but not to the point that a person would literally sell a kidney and spleen in order to sleep with you.
No, the selling of body parts came at six.
Seven meant they were willing to commit a crime and sell body parts.
Eight was when they neared the wailing stage. I typically called it bartering, where they asked what they could possibly do in order to gain just one taste, anything, anything at all!
Nine was a rarity. I was a nine when I was tired, when I wanted a piece of ass from someone hot, and I didn’t want to make a big fuss over it. But a nine was dangerous because showing myself at a nine made it easier to wipe the individuals’ memories. Meaning I was more than likely cursing them to a life where they would never settle down because they’d be stuck comparing me to some sad human male with a beer gut, and he’d always fall short.
Even the Toms fell short.
Tom Brady.
Tom Hardy.
You get the picture.
In my entire existence, I’ve pulled a nine maybe four times. And each time I felt regretful — after all the sex had never been worthy of ruining some pathetic human’s chance at love.
And tens?
Tens weren’t done. To become a ten in front of a human would be the equivalent of a human discovering the sweetest tasting sin, the most physical and emotional ecstasy known over and over again. Add that in with good looks that made women, men, plants, atoms — you get the picture — full-on weep, and it just wasn’t done.
Never.
In fact, some might say it was forbidden.
I’d never been tempted.
Until five minutes ago.
I was currently at an eight, flirting with a ten, and she’d finally succumbed enough to fall to her knees, but when she glanced up, she blinked a few times then stood. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
The hell?
I did a double take, my eyes narrowing as she shuddered before me, but still, nothing. No weeping. No sudden burst of adoration.
Nine, here I come.
I exhaled as I allowed my hair to go pure gold and my eyes to turn a shade of amber that looked like a never-ending ring of fire around my blue iris. I released waves of energy that I could see pulsing from my body with each exhale, and I was aware that she was being assaulted with my scent, a mixture of rain, fresh air, and finally a deep sweet chocolate.
The most addicting scents known to mankind.
The most cleansing scents to a human.
Her eyes widened as she gulped and then squeezed them shut and covered her face with her hands, her knees knocked together as she swayed.
“Open your eyes, human!”
“I-I’d rather not,” she said in a weak voice.
“Now!” The walls of the room shook causing a shriek to explode between her lips, and suddenly she was moving towards me and launching her plump body into the air.
Directly onto mine.
Mine.
My body.
Without any other option, I braced myself for her impact. Not that she could physically harm me, it was more of a mental brace of, oh shit the woman might be plump, but she moved with the speed of a torpedo.
I caught her in my arms.
The shaking stopped.
Her hands clung to the front of my shirt, her breathing was unsteady, her body sweaty, hot, and curvy.
I appreciated all types of beauty.
Even hers.
I would have preferred a small mate, one that I could terrify into submission — one I had no risk of falling in love with.
Because a siren in love — was a dangerous thing.
And a part of me wondered if that was what Cassius had planned all along. In order for me to be at my strongest, I needed to be in love.
Something I’d never experienced in all of my years of living, screwing, and toying with males and females alike.
“What.” I gave her a menacing glare. “The hell, do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m scared of earthquakes,” she whispered, licking her lips repeatedly until I thought I was going to go mad with the motion of her tongue sliding across the pink of her mouth. “Terrified, actually.”
“This is Seattle.” I was still holding her, for reasons beyond my realm of understanding.
“They say the next earthquake is going to be really big and half of downtown is going to slide into the Puget Sound, so excuse me for being scared!”
“And you live downtown?”
“Well… no.” Her brown eyes focused in on mine.
“Then you must visit there often?”
“No.”
I sighed impatiently. “So your fears are completely unfounded and illogical. Simply stop fearing it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I tire of holding you, human.” The lie fell easy; in fact, I had forgotten I was holding her until she fidgeted in my arms like she was the offended party, when I was the one who had just been assaulted. “The only thing you need to fear is me.”
“Because you…” She sighed. “You’re going to sacrifice me?”
I tried to hold the laugh in.
But it was all too ridiculous.
“Yes.” I nodded seriously, my lips twitching with the urge to smile. “The process will be painless. I’ll tie your hands and feet to the bedposts — strip you naked, and then plunge an immortal sword into your heart. You’ll need to repeat the words ut animam meam and then once you drink my blood — if it accepts you, you will live.”
Her face paled as she struggled to get out of my arms.
And then I lost it, dropping her back to her feet, laughing so hard I felt my body shook with it.
“I don’t even remember the phrase!” Her wild eyes darted between me and the bed, clearly not catching on. Joke. It was a joke.
“Well,” I lifted a shoulder and shrugged. “Then I guess you die.”
“But—”
“Better do it quickly, less pain that way.”
“What about the plants?”
My smile froze. “Either you’re extremely simple minded or mentally ill. What the hell are you talking about?”
“The—” She tugged at her low ponytail. “The plants, you know, around the grounds. I take care of them and Cassius—” Her eyes lit up. “Cassius said I was getting a promotion, so sorry, but you can’t kill me.”
I grinned. “Okay.”
She frowned.
I was still confused how she was shielding herself from my essence, but already I was mentally drained from the energy it took to get her to worship me — instead I returned to my normal everyday state and held out my hand.
She stared at it.
“Take my hand.”
“No.” She swallowed. “I think I’ll just wait for Cassius.”
“He’s already mated.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not mating him.”
“No.” This, this was my favorite part, watching humans try to logically put together all of the pieces of the puzzle only to realize their brains were too small to comprehend the different parts they held, the angles, the colors, “You’re going to mate with me.”
I expected her to cry.
Maybe throw something.
Instead, she froze and then with a scream ran head first directly into my body sending me sailing backward against the marble floor.
I was caught unaware.
Meaning, I barely had time to stop myself before my head slammed back against the hard ground.
She tried to run toward the door.
“Cat and mouse.” I sighed from my position on the ground. “I always did like foreplay.”
She jerked against the doors with fervor, I’d give her that, but they wouldn’t budge.
Not until she was mine.
Not until the doors sensed my blood running through her veins.
“Why won’t it open?” Her voice was strangled as pieces of her hair fell out of its restraint and brushed against her shoulders. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
“I can.” I yawned. “I will.”






Haven’t read this series yet? 

The Dark Ones (Book One)  FREE
Untouchable Darkness (Book Two) $1.99

About the Author:



Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!






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